


you told me not to cry (but i did for my heart)

by be_the_one



Series: c'était toi (you were the one) [3]
Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, a lot of feelings from bellamy, but also not really an au, head and the heart bullshit, i also count season 6 as a win for bellarke, nothing against echo but shes irrelevant in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-18 16:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21730354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/be_the_one/pseuds/be_the_one
Summary: The moon, the stars, are nothing without you.Your touch, your skin, where do I begin?No words can explain, the way I’m missing you.Deny this emptiness - this hole that I’m inside.But these tears, they tell their own story.Bellamy tries. He tries to keep going - to keep himself, and the others alive - even when they’re back on Ark, waiting for the end of Praimfaya. He tries not to dwell on the fact that he left Clarke.He succeeds, and in his waking moments - he runs through statistics with Monty and Raven, Echo and Emori teaches him the art of swordplay, and he plays drinking games at night with Murphy and Harper.Still - it does nothing to keep his Princess, looking like how he last saw her - with striking blue eyes, and flowing blonde hair - from haunting his dreams.A/N: This is a continuation of the previous works in this series - so, it might be better if that was read first.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Echo (Mentioned)
Series: c'était toi (you were the one) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1136150
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	you told me not to cry (but i did for my heart)

_“I trust you.”_

  
  


_“I can’t lose you too.”_

  
  


_“May we meet again.”_

  
  


_“You won’t be by yourself.”_

  
  


_“I can’t lose Clarke.”_

  
  


_“We need each other, Bellamy.”_

  
  


_“Nothing is happening to you.”_

  
  


_“I need you.”_

  
  


_“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to let you do this alone.”_

  
  


_“Together.”_

  
  


_He and Clarke are standing in ALIE’s lab. They’re so close - so, so close to one another, but the gap of mere inches feels insurmountable._

_She’s talking to him - words he refuses to listen to, because obviously, nothing’s going to happen - they’re going to make it out together, end of discussion._

_“People follow you.” She’s looking up at him - with clear liquid pooling in her eyes, forming icy crystals that never fall. “You inspire them - because of this,” she places her hand on his chest, above his beating heart._

_He tries to stop her from saying anything more, because he doesn’t even want to entertain the idea of not having her by his side. By his side is where she belongs. By her side is where he belongs. Anything else would be a major fuck-up by the universe._

_“But the only way to make sure we survive is if you use this, too.” She lightly taps his temple._

_He should probably look away._

_He should probably stop staring._

_Still, though, he can’t - he can’t ignore how her hand feels on his chest - or how soft her fingers are, pressing lightly against the side of his face._

_He doesn’t stop staring._

_“I got you for that.” He doesn’t have to use his head - because he has her. He has her - he’ll have her beside him, and he’ll use his heart, and she’ll use her head, and they’d be fine. He has her._

_Right?_

Wrong. 

Bellamy knows that now - lying awake in his cot on the Ark. 

He, and the rest of the crew are somewhere in Alpha station - he chose it, not because the facilities were better, but because he could lie awake at night and pretend to be near his Princess. 

Five years. 

Five years since Earth went up in flames - and Clarke along with it, alone - because of him. Because he left her. And along with her, his soul and a piece of his own heart.

A figure beside him stirs. 

Four months since Echo stopped sleeping in her room, and in his instead. 

He’s still not sure how he feels about that. 

* * *

When Raven announces that they’re going back to Earth - Bellamy doesn’t dare to let himself hope, because he’s _over it._ He’s over his love.

He grits his teeth and focuses on what needs to be done - he kisses Echo, he talks to Raven - he does everything except _hope._

* * *

_“Clarke knew you’d come.”_

Clarke. 

Princess. 

_His Princess._

* * *

He doesn’t miss the way Echo glances at him when the girl - Madi, he remembers - mentions Clarke. 

But he’ll be damned if he lets it distract him from saving his Princess.

* * *

_“283 lives for one. She must be pretty special.”_

Bellamy doesn’t tell Diyoza that he’d offer the entire universe in a heartbeat if it meant having his princess back.

* * *

Hugging her again - getting to bury his nose in her halo-like hair - cut shorter than he’s ever seen it - and being able to feel her soft curves pressing against his body, is like having the weight of the universe being pushed off of his shoulders. 

A small piece of his incomplete heart breaks away as he realizes all that he’s missed for the past half-decade. 

* * *

The six-day trek back to the Valley is exhausting, but each word he exchanges with Clarke seems to breathe life into his body. _She’s alive, she’s alive, she’s alive,_ every nerve, every cell in his body seems to sing.

* * *

It’s when he reunites with Echo that Bellamy realizes, that he can’t actually call Clarke ‘Princess’ anymore. 

It’s not exactly right to have pet names for a girl that’s decidedly _not_ his girlfriend - and not have a pet name for his _actual_ girlfriend. 

* * *

“Here we go again, pleading for the life of a traitor, who you[‘re in] _love [with]._ ”

The defining words go unsaid, because even Octavia knows not to push him that far. Although, he doesn’t miss the sneer she shoots him. _Yes,_ he thinks, _I know how pathetic I am._

* * *

A piece of his heart breaks off, _again,_ when he has to chain Clarke up during Madi’s ascension ceremony. Then another part shatters when Clarke lands a slap on his cheek. 

His face stings, and he’s sure there’s bound to be a print, but he’s used to the pain. He’s lived _years_ without Clarke. He can do this, to save everyone else.

He doesn’t miss the irony, that he was previously willing to give up 283 lives for her. He doesn’t miss the irony that he’d do it all again, and more, to get her back. 

But this time, she’s alive and safe, and he can live with that. 

* * *

When Madi approaches him - no doubt to try to defend Clarke - he’s about to tell her to save her breath. There’s nothing Clarke could do that he wouldn’t forgive her for, but something inside tells him to listen to what the young commander has to say. 

_“She called you everyday on the radio. For six years.”_

Another shard falls and shatters with a soft _plink_ and his whole world stills. 

* * *

_“It didn’t work.” Raven bursts through the entrance of the dining room of Alpha station., where he and Emori are the test subjects of Monty’s newest algae flavor, while the chef himself looks on hopefully. Bellamy swallows and flashes a more-grimace-than-smile at Monty - who’s face drops._

_“What didn’t work?”_

_“The radio.” Raven sits cross-legged on the table and fiddles with a piece of wire. “It’s dead. I can run diagnostics, though - try to figure out exactly what’s wrong. And if I go hunting in Factory station, I’m sure I’ll be able to find some spare parts, but it’ll take months to fix it. Anyways, I thought I’d come and give you guys an update-”_

_“No.” It’s almost a whisper. Its still loud enough to get the three other people in the room to look at him._

_“No?” Raven asks, unsure. In the three months they’ve spent sequestered on the Ark, this is maybe the twenty-eighth word he’s spoken. He doesn’t see the point in speaking when the last of his soul has gone up in smoke when he left Clarke to burn. He’s only got his heart left, aching for Clarke, and with enough cracks that any provocation will have pieces breaking off and disintegrating. What else has he got to say? Nothing is worth anything without his princess to see, to hear, to acknowledge. Clarke had made his worth, had made everything worth it._

_“No.” He shrugs. “Octavia and the others are all in the bunker. They’re safe. We made sure of that. What do we need the radio for?”_

_Monty shares a glance with Raven before speaking up from his own corner. “Well, when we go back down, we’ll need to find them, won’t we? The radio will help.”_

_“The bunker’s not going anywhere.”_

_“Bellamy, if the radio works, we might be able to know if there’s anyone that survived Praimfaya. If Clarke-”_

_“Don’t.” An octave higher, a tad louder, and a little more desperate. “Don’t go there, Raven. There’s no coming back from that. Clarke’s dead. She’s dead because I left her. And it fucking hurts, but it’ll hurt more every time a radio crackles to life and we hear something from Earth and its not her. It won’t ever be her.” His voice breaks on the last word and tears slip through the corner of his left eye._

_Plink. A small shard slips out of place and falls away. Its enough to dislodge all the other pieces, and the rest of his heart is just a little more unstable, a little more volatile._

_He stalks out of the room, towards the one they’ve dubbed the ‘training room’, where Echo is always to be found._

_In the past two weeks, they’ve found themselves continuously in the company of one another. His silence seems to draw Echo in, and Bellamy’s sure she’s also grieving, for the family she left behind. They don’t talk much, just swordplay or a game of poker._

_Raven doesn’t bring up the possibility of Clarke being alive again._

_Neither does Monty, though the latter hasn’t yet mastered the art of giving inconspicuous sympathetic glances either._

_The radio goes unfixed._

* * *

Six years. 

He could have had Clarke for six years. 

It’s in the back of his mind, loud and insistent. The only thing louder and more insistent is the knowledge that Clarke had radioed him _everyday._ Almost as much as he thought about her. He also notices how Madi hadn’t mentioned the rest of the group. 

A small shard reattaches itself to his heart. 

* * *

He sleeps. They all do. 

* * *

He dreams. 

He dreams of his mother, reading him bedtime stories. 

He dreams of himself, reading bedtime stories about gods and goddesses, kings and queens, to his mother. 

He dreams of the moment Octavia was born - crying and more trouble than she was worth. 

He dreams of the blanket he helped his mother stitch for Octavia. 

He dreams of his training as a cadet. 

He dreams of sweat dripping from his hair, dripping down his back as he tries to match the times he’s given by his commander. 

He dreams of a metal utility pipe in the wall. 

He dreams of _her._

He dreams of golden halos and blue eyes. 

He dreams of dropships and guns and fire and _her,_ standing in the middle of it all. 

He dreams of a kiss on his cheek, and a heart breaking.

He dreams of a girl on a cliff, a girl he couldn’t save. 

He dreams of a scarred face, a crushing hug. 

He dreams of enemy territory.

He dreams of massacres. 

He dreams of a small vial of who-knows-what and her face, achingly gorgeous and illuminated by firelight, before his eyes close. 

He dreams of _the_ _head and the heart,_ and deciding the fate of a hundred. 

He dreams of an empty lab as he waits, with his heart jammed up his throat. 

He dreams of a burning Earth. 

He dreams of everything he never wanted and the only thing he ever wanted. 

When Bellamy wakes up a hundred and twenty five years later, he thinks he’s still dreaming, because _she’s_ still the only thing he sees. 

* * *

He meets Jordan Jasper. 

He accidentally thinks about a small girl with brown curls and blue and an even-smaller boy with blonde curls and doe-brown eyes. 

* * *

They step off their ship and onto their new Earth. 

He thinks about another time, another century, when they stepped on another Earth. They were hopeful and not-yet plagued with nightmares of wars and death and killing and blood. 

* * *

“ _Are you the leader of your people?”_

Russel directs the question at Clarke, but Bellamy’s the one who says _yes._

As far as he knows, they’ve been leading together, but Clarke’s the one that leads him. Clarke’s the one he needs to lead. 

He doesn’t miss the glare Raven sends their way, and he makes a mental note to have a chat with her later. He doesn’t need people to harbour hate on his behalf. Clarke doesn’t need it either. He also doesn’t miss the slump in the shoulders, the small light in her eyes that dim each time Raven Reyes shoots yet another thinly-veiled insult at her. 

* * *

Each time Bellamy finds himself sharing an idea, sharing a smile, sharing a glance with her, a piece of his heart - just a small fraction of what breaks off each time, but a piece nevertheless - finds its place back in his puzzle-heart. 

A big piece falls off when he catches Clarke dancing with Cillian, in a bright blue dress that brings out her eyes - he’s never seen her in a dress before and she’s _stunning._ It makes his heart skip two, three, four, beats before finding the right rhythm - but _slowly,_ he feels his heart becoming whole again. 

* * *

And then Clarke dies. 

* * *

One. Two. Three. Four. 

* * *

Five. Six. Seven. Eight. 

* * *

He counts his heartbeat. 

He counts his heartbeat because he knows it is what Clarke loved most. 

He counts his heartbeat because his heart is so utterly broken that he has count to make sure there’s something left. 

There is. 

He hates it. 

* * *

He decides to think with his head, and make a decision as if Clarke was still there to make it. 

He accepts the deal offered by the Lightbournes. 

_Plink._

His heart flatlines.

* * *

One. Two. 

* * *

Bellamy sits by the lake. No one comes to him, not even Echo. 

The lake is not blue enough. He remembers a lake the color of her eyes, but it is not the one in front of him. 

He just wants a blue lake, with the shadows of pain and promise lurking below. He just wants to gaze into her eyes. He just wants Clarke. 

The tears gather, and he lets them fall. 

He mourns for his Princess. 

He mourns for his literal heart. 

* * *

Finding out that Clarke is alive is like taking his first breath after weeks of repeated drowning in ocean eyes. 

* * *

_“I won’t let you die.”_

The words aren’t nearly enough. 

Bellamy has a million more things he wants to say, starting with _I love you_ and ending with _it’ll always be you._

The emotions are enough to choke him up and they’re about to pour out but he turns away before Josephine catches it, and turns it against him. 

* * *

Bellamy thinks he turned away too late. Because Josephine’s _talking,_ using Clarke’s voice but saying things that makes it decidedly not Clarke. Even still, Josephine seems to be taunting them, with her tone and the wicked glint in her not-Clarke eyes that seems to say, _I know something you don’t want me to know._

 _“- a weird relationship, isn’t it?”_ Josephine cocks her head. She’s quite possibly waiting for an answer but he’s not entirely listening. Instead, he’s all too focused on looking at her. 

Even in dim lighting of the cave, he can see her clearly. He’s always been able to see his Princess. 

And he’s torn apart, because it’s not Clarke. 

The expression is wrong, the smile is wrong, the tone is wrong, and even her eyes are wrong - lacking in Clarke’s spirit and warmth and fire, that the blue in them is changed, somehow. 

_“-she locks you up. You leave her on earth. She leaves you to die in the fighting pits.”_ Each memory flashes by in his mind, all of Clarke. His mind is full of Clarke. 

_“- it’s exhausting, frankly.”_

Bellamy agrees. 

* * *

This time, it’s her heart that flatlines. 

* * *

One. Two. Three. Four. 

* * *

Later, when Clarke’s breathing is deep and calming, and her heart thrums a steady beat, Bellamy can appreciate the humor of kissing her for the first time during CPR. 

_It’s definitely something that would happen to us,_ he’ll think. 

But for now, he focuses on pumping his arms over her chest and breathing air into her lungs. 

* * *

He’s already lost her more times than someone should lose the love of their life. 

Once, during her confinement on the Ark. 

Twice, during her time at Mount Weather. 

Thrice, during her self-imposed banishment of Camp Jaha. 

The fourth time, when he leaves her to burn in Praimfaya. 

And the fifth, a mere week ago, when Josephine Lightbourne did her mind-jump thing and destroyed the part of Clarke Bellamy loved most - her mind, head, consciousness. 

Bellamy refuses to lose her for a fifth time.

So, he keeps going, and he doesn’t stop - not even when Octavia tries to pull him away, not when Gabriel deems her a lost cause. 

_I could die doing just this_ , he muses. 

* * *

He doesn’t die. 

Neither does Clarke.

The ice blue of her eyes - exactly as he remembers - breathes life into him and _just like that_ , a part of his heart is fixed. 

* * *

One. Two. Three. Four. 

* * *

The thump of his heartbeat grows louder and stronger by the second. 

Bellamy loves it. 

* * *

Bellamy thinks it’s over. 

He thinks he and Octavia are on the mend.

He thinks his family is safe, with Clarke at his side, with the death of the Primes, with the dust settling after the war. 

That is, until Octavia disintegrates in his arms. 

* * *

One. Two. Three. Four. 


End file.
